


The Patriot War 1837-1838: Part the first, or, just being a “helpful” neighbor

by rev_lady_mal



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Patriot War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 07:57:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6071299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rev_lady_mal/pseuds/rev_lady_mal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Canada has to go and find out what America's up to. America of course is trying to help his brother become independent of England.</p>
          </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“The experiment of keeping colonies and governing them well ought at least, to have a trial.” Lord Durham, 1838

He never knocked when he came to visit; he always walked right through the door, or even climbed through a window, depending on which allowed the shortest route indoors. Canada quickly wiped his eyes and blew his nose before America found him, not that he ever noticed what mood Canada was in when he was around, but it still wouldn’t do to let America see him blubbering. It didn’t take long for him to find Canada sitting in one of the chairs in the dining room, an untouched cold cup of tea on the table next to an equally untouched plate of lemon biscuits.

“Hey Canada! Wonderful autumn we’re having, I thought I’d drop by and see if you wanted to come to my house for Thanksgiving this year? Three kinds of pie!”

Canada rolled his eyes, “You’re only a month late.”*

America’s puzzled look made Canada’s mood darker, but as always his southern neighbor either didn’t care or didn’t seem to notice. “Say, there’s something else I wanted to bring up. We’ve recently had quite a few people coming across the border asking for asylum. Something about rebellion and England having a fit. I dunno, they kept yelling in some foreign gibberis-“

Canada’s fist came down hard on the table, making the tea slosh over the rim of the cup and one of the biscuits jump off the plate and break in two. “FRENCH YOU TWIT! IT’S CALLED FRENCH!” Canada cursed under his breath as his face grew hot and he felt fresh tears well up in his eyes.

America crouched down next to Canada and put his arm across his shoulders “Hey hey hey there big guy, I didn’t mean to insult you. Hell, French, German, Chinese, it’s all Greek to me!” Canada answered with a thunderous snort and more drying his eyes on his sleeve, then jerked his shoulders away from America’s arm.

“The French living here are having a hard time of it with their English neighbors.” Canada made an attempt to explain, “Some of them have been here since the days of Champlain for God’s sake, but England doesn’t care! England does nothing! England never does anything! So a group of them became fed up enough they decided to fight for independence.” Canada had risen from his seat and stood with fists clenched. “And then all of a sudden England cared and screamed and carried on like I have never seen! He was a complete bastard!”

The room was silent, and Canada looked over at America expecting a word of sympathy or encouragement. After all, he had suffered for years under England’s cruelty when he decided to fight for independence, and Canada had always believed then that America had it coming. But now that Canada had endured a small taste of it surely America had some level of empathy he could express? The next thing he heard America say however made his shoulders slump and despair return, because out of that entire speech he only heard one word …

“Independence? Canada is … fighting … for independence?”

Canada didn’t like the gleam that suddenly appeared in America’s eyes, like he was demon-possessed, and the grin that grew across his face gave the northern country chills.

“Oh FUCK YEAH!!! I knew this day would come!” America rushed forward and swept Canada up into a bone-crushing bear hug. “Congratulations!” He released Canada just as quickly and stood with his arms akimbo, fists resting on his hips. “Oh yeah, England can be a real bastard, I know all too well. The trick is, you have to be an even bigger bastard and wear him down. It’s also a good idea to get some outside help.”

America smiled at Canada, who had picked himself up off the floor after being dropped by the other country. His back hurt and he had some difficulty standing up straight. “And brother, help has arrived! This is going to be great!”

Canada raised both hands and began gesturing frantically as though trying to stop a speeding locomotive. “Nonono! That won’t be necessary, you see … it’s already over! Once again America you’re about a month late. The rebellion is done and over with there’s no need for any of this-“

“What?” America shouted, “Are you kidding? Over? No way this is just the beginning! Sure, lay low for a while, make preparations, spread propaganda stockpile guns and ammunition, set up secret meetings and establish communication lines. Damn this feels good! Nothing better than giving England a good ole ass whoopin to raise your spirits!” Canada could only stare at America, horrified and mouth agape.

“Well, I better be going then, places to go, people to see!” America turned and walked to the doorway, then looked back at Canada and gave him a wink. “I’ll be ‘getting in touch’ with you soon, if you know what I mean. Oh, don’t forget, next Thursday, three kinds of pie!” and he left the house whistling “Yankee Doodle.”**

Canada slumped back into the empty chair and stared down at the dining room table. This nightmare couldn’t be real. Kumajirou waddled into the room just then, looked around and asked, “Did someone say there was pie?“


	2. The Patriot War 1837-1838: Part Too! Caroline, where did you put my secret handshake?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canada has to go and find out what America's up to. America of course is trying to help his brother become independent of England.

Canada tried to carefully pick his way through the snow-covered forest, but he kept slipping on ice and slushy wet snow. Kumajirou didn’t help either squirming in his arms, but it was imperative that he located America as soon as possible and stop the insanity building up around the eastern Great Lakes. America’s boss had troops lined along the American border, and England had his Navy stationed on the Canadian side. It was thanks to England that the situation might have already gone too far. America wasn’t helping either; it was both of them that caused Canada to have the worst Christmas ever, and it was all due to one little steamboat called the Caroline.

He could still hear the shouting between them both in the chilly room that pale winter afternoon in the first days of 1838. It had started calmly enough, but it didn’t take long for America to push England’s buttons, and he knew exactly how.

“Happy Christmas America.” England had greeted his former colony, “I hope you enjoyed the tin of biscuits I made for you.”

“Hmm?” America had answered, and then smiled, “Oh yeah thanks, they made excellent clay pigeons for target practice.”

England only glared for a moment, then smiled back, “I see, at least the birds had something to nibble on then.”

America smiled again, gazing out the window at the snow covered field, “Too many birds I’m afraid, and quite a few squirrels too. They were dropping left and right; it took me all day to clean up the mess, but I managed to collect most of the bits and burned it all before it could kill any more of the local wildlife. Speaking of burning -”

England’s green eyes were smoldering with anger, but his voice remained calm. “Yes, speaking of burning, what’s this about my navy burning a boat?”

“You know damn well what it’s about. That boat was an American-owned commercial vessel delivering supplies along the Niagara River. What reason was there to burn it other than to provoke another war?”

“OOOOOOOH well there’s the pot calling the kettle now!” England exclaimed, moving closer to America and jabbing his finger into the younger country’s chest.” That boat made several trips in one day to Navy Island, we watched from Canada’s side, didn’t we Canada? It’s no secret who’s holed up there and why, isn’t that right Canada? A group of these rebels already made an attempt to invade Canada through Detroit and Windsor only a few nights ago, isn’t that right Canada?”

“And my boss sent militia in to stop them isn’t that right Canada?” America retorted. Both countries turned and looked at the third country present who until that moment had remained mute. He sat up, and opened his mouth to speak “Uh …”

“Well if your boss thwarted one attack on Windsor, why isn’t he doing the same here at Niagara?” England continued before Canada could speak.

“Because,” America answered, “There is this no small matter of your navy burning an American boat in plain sight! You’ve broken international law you dumb ass and a member of the crew was murdered!”

“That’s a lie!” England shouted back. “The crew was allowed to leave before the boat was cast adrift.”

“Uh guys?” Canada tried to interject.

“One of the crew is unaccounted for, and we arrested a man who was bragging about killing a crew member in a local tavern after the Caroline was set on fire!

“Uh guys?”

“AND, we also know that the officers in charge of that little operation were decorated for it!” America continued. “So tell me again that your boss officially knows nothing about that boat being destroyed.”

“Bloody hell!” England growled as he grabbed America by the shirt collar, “Release that man at once or else-“

Canada bolted out of his chair “HEEEEEEEY GUUUUUUYSSS!!!”

England and America both turned and stared at Canada, who was beet red and breathing heavily. America used the distraction to push England away. “Shit we’re getting no where, when you’re ready to talk let me know!” America threw back at the other two countries as he stormed out of the room.

“But America, wait – “ Canada shouted at his retreating back. England watched him leave with that bored, yet annoyed expression of his and replied, “He won’t listen, never has, dumb ass indeed.” Then he too left.

So now Canada found himself shivering in the cold and dark wandering around on the wrong side of the river looking for America. His feet were wet and his new wool mittens made his hands itch, which carrying around Kumajirou didn’t help. The bear dropped with a thud when Canada felt a gloved hand grab the collar of his parka and jerk him back. He was shoved up against a frozen tree trunk hard enough to knock the wind out of his lungs with a loud ‘whoosh!’ then he saw the small group of men all holding rifles pointed at him.

“Merde.” Canada muttered.

“Canada?” Said a familiar voice and then America walked into view.

“America, I’ve been looking for you! You’re not easy to find.” Canada exclaimed relieved he finally found him.

“Hold on.” America interjected, also raising his rifle with the others. “Just how did you find us anyway?”

“Huh? Are you kidding? Oh hell – “ Canada groaned, unable to stand it anymore, and began chewing through the itchy wool covering his thumb to relieve the agony. He heard several gasps and when he looked up noticed the wide-eyed stare of America watching him gnaw at his own hand. Canada stopped mid chew, then pulling his thumb out of his mouth he started to say “Sorry, new mi –“

“BROTHER BEAVER!” America cried, and then he too began chewing his own wool-covered thumb. It was Canada’s turn to stare wide eyed as all of the other men also began chewing their thumbs. “I knew you were on our side, come on, we’re on our way to the lodge now.” And America grabbed Canada by the arm and dragged him along with the rest of the group. Behind him, he heard Kumajirou mutter. “This can’t be good.”

After a short distance, they finally stopped in front of a small hut in the forest. One of the men produced a skeleton key and opened a large lock, then pulled the rough door open. The men one by one stooped under the doorway and stepped into the hut. Someone struck a match inside and a single kerosene lamp soon lit the tiny space. Canada could see the moist clouds of breath from the men as they moved around and took positions in the room. As his eyes grew accustomed to the light, he noticed a banner hanging on the opposite wall. He gasped at the images on it – a bald eagle with wings spread clutched a snarling lion. In each of the upper corners was a five-pointed star. At the bottom of the flag were the words “LIBERTY OR DEATH.”

“Alright,” America began. “The final preparations are being made and the rendezvous point is – “

“Wait a minute!” One of the men growled, pointing at Canada. “I know I’ve never seen him here before, or any of the other hunters’ lodges I’ve been too. How do we know he’s really one of us?” This caused considerable muttering among the other men in the room, staring menacingly at the northern country. Kumajirou muttered, “Fuck, we’re dead.” A large lump began to form in Canada’s throat.

“Hey!” America shouted, “He gave the sign of the beaver degree, what else do you want?”

The other men muttered to each other for a moment, then the leader said, “Give him the test.”  
“Fine!” America retorted, “Go ahead Canada, make the sign of the snowshoe.” He gave an encouraging smile to his brother.

Canada couldn’t take it anymore. The fuck was this shit? He reached out angrily, jerked on the sleeve of America’s coat and shouted “WHAT THE HELL -“ and heard the other men in the room all collectively gasp.

America beamed at the northern country, then grabbing his free hand pumped it vigorously. “There, you see? He’s shown us the sign of the beaver and the sign of the snowshoe; he’s one of us! Can we get on with the business of this meeting?”

The man who had so far objected once again spoke up. “Just to be sure, make him take the oath.” This suggestion made several heads nod in agreement.

“For Christ’s sake.” America muttered, then he looked at Canada and said, “You don’t mind doing it again do you? We can’t be too careful here.”

“Uh …”

“Great!” America answered. A blindfold appeared and was tied over Canada’s eyes; next he felt the pressure of America’s hand on his shoulder pushing him down until he went to his knees. He gasped out loud when he felt the cold edge of a knife rest just below his Adam’s apple. “Repeat after me … “America said, then Canada from that moment on wanted to die as he spoke the words the southern country whispered in his ear:

“I solemnly swear in the presence of Almighty God and this lodge of Hunters that I will not give the secrets of this degree, or any secret that may come to my knowledge, in the body of this lodge, to any person to whom they do not justly and lawfully belong…that I will not write, print, stain, stamp, hue, scratch, indent, or engrave upon anything whereby the secrets of this degree may be unlawfully obtained….

I pledge my life, my property, and my sacred honor to the Association; I bind myself to its interests, and I promise, until death, that I will attack, combat, and help to destroy, by all means that my superior may think proper, every power, authority, of Royal origin, upon this continent; and especially never to rest till all the tyrants of Britain cease to have any dominion or footing in North America.

I further solemnly swear to obey the orders delivered to me by my superior, and never to disclose any such order, or orders, except to a brother "Hunter” of the same degree. So help me G – .“

Before Canada could finish, the man posted at the lookout suddenly wheezed “Somebody’s coming!” and the light from the lamp instantly went out. Everyone dropped to the freezing dirt floor and held their breath as they heard the sound of shuffling boots in the snow move closer, then gradually fade away. Canada reached up and tore the blindfold away, glad that whoever held the knife had moved it before they had lain down. They waited several more minutes on their stomachs until America rose up and then the others also slowly lifted themselves off the floor. “Scatter!” America hissed. The door opened and they all ran outside into the snow. Canada didn’t look to see which direction America went, he just wanted to get the hell away from the madness as fast as he could. He knew now talking to America was impossible; he glumly had to concede that England was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: You can’t make up stuff this good! This is all actual secret signals and rituals the “patriots” on the American side required of the members of the hunters’ lodges. The flag described was the actual flag used by the patriots to symbolize their “struggle” helping Canada gain its independence from the crown.


	3. The Patriot War 1837 – 1838: Part III, Call me Don Quixote ...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> England arrives just in time to wrap everything up. Canada gets emotional and yells at him and America.

It was a lovely Friday afternoon in November that found Canada standing on the bank of the St Lawrence River watching what he hoped would be the end of a very long year. The British and American navy steamers were bombarding the windmill steadily now, and 1000 British troops were quickly rounding up the last few ‘hunters’ who didn’t have the sense to run away, die or surrender.

Canada heard him approaching from behind. Without turning around he called “Hullo England.”

“Good afternoon.” England answered, also watching the battle unfold on Windmill Point. “This should be over in time for tea I imagine.”

“A late one perhaps.” Canada replied. “I see you brought some bigger guns today.”

“Yes, that windmill has rather thick walls.” England smiled, “I would think you would be a bit more animated than this, after today any attempts from the Yanks to invade again will be met severely from their own government. They’ve never supported any of these so-called ‘patriots’ in the first place.”

Canada dragged his eyes away from Windmill Point and looked at his ‘guardian and protector’ for a moment, then asked, “What’s going to happen to the prisoners? Are they facing the same fate as Lount and Matthews?”

England looked puzzled. “Some of them yes, most of them will be sent to the Van Dieman’s colony. I imagine a few may even be spared completely, just to keep America in good spirits. Most of those idiots up there aren’t even Canadian, they’re bored Americans with nothing better to do than try to invade a country that doesn’t want them there.”

“True,” Canada agreed, “For the most part they’re small time pirates and thrill seekers, but even if the purpose of them fighting has been lost to profiteering the original problem hasn’t gone away.”

“And what problem is that?” England asked.

“That you’re a sadistic asshole.”

Canada jumped when he heard America speak behind him, he turned and saw him leaning up against a tree, arms crossed over his chest also watching the attack on Windmill Point.

England’s smile spread, “What took you so long? Not like you to be late to a party”

“Crossing the river right now isn’t the easiest thing to do, but you’re right, I wouldn’t have missed this for anything.” America looked at the other two countries standing on the riverbank. “Go ahead Canada, let him have it, you were saying?”

“Oh shut up!” Canada roared, “You’re part the problem just as much as England is! Ever since I saw that flag in that hut last winter, every time I think about you and your fucking ‘hunters’ making one botched up attempt after another to grab what you can for your own profit I knew this had nothing to do with helping me at all! You’re just in this for your own gain! Well I’m sick of it! Sick of your proposals, sick of your invasions, sick of you trying to manipulate me into joining you! Brother Beaver, GAAAAHHHH!!”

“And as for you -” He continued, now turning back to England, who had stood silently while a smug smile spread across his face at the broiling America so much deserved from his northern neighbor was giving him, “This whole damn mess started because you would rather sit and watch a cat torture a mouse than get your own hands dirty and clean up the mess you allowed to happen! You treat me like some dusty old figurine you picked up on vacation then put on a shelf and conveniently forgot about! The only time you notice me is when I get in the way! People are dead and dying because of your callousness and I’m sick of you!”

The sudden burst of laughter behind him made Canada jump. America was doubled over holding his sides as if to keep himself from falling apart. England glared past Canada at the other country and shouted, “This is hardly the time –“

“You know what Canada?” America interrupted, still bent over with his hands on his knees for support, “You’re really cute when you’re angry.”

The expression on Canada’s face went from disgusted to glowering. “Prick.” He muttered.

Still smiling broadly, America shoved his hands in his pockets. “Whatever.” He replied and wandered down to the edge of the water to watch the much diminished fighting on the point.

“I’ve never regarded you as a mouse.” England said flatly, sighing he looked at Canada and gave him a warm smile, but there was sadness in his eyes. “Are you sure independence is what you want?”

Canada stood tall in front of England, and realized just then how much shorter the other country was. “Yes, will you consider it?”

England put his hand on Canada’s shoulder and gave it an affectionate squeeze, then made his way up the bank. “What? Is that all you have to say?” Canada called after him as England continued to walk away.

“Do you really want independence?” America asked, still standing near the water’s edge. The sun had set and it was almost too dark to see the last of the fighting on Windmill Point.

“What do you think?” Canada answered.

“Then hit him where it will hurt the most.”

“Man, fuck you! I don’t want to go to war with England! Isn’t that obvio-“

“I’m not talking about war dumb ass.” America interrupted before Canada could get started into another rant. “Hit him in the pocketbook. Make keeping you around so expensive giving you your independence will be to England’s advantage. That’s what I did. The war was just a by product really.” America had that grin on his face that made Canada cringe. “You’re smart, figure it out. Make it too expensive to keep you around, but do it in a way that doesn’t turn him into that raging bastard you and I know he can be.”

“You really are a jerk”

America laughed, “Nah, this is me giving you honest advice. If I wanted to be a jerk I would say something like ‘Hey Canada, YOUR BEER SUCKS!’”

America felt the fist land on his jaw, and heard the splash when he and Canada fell into the river, but after that he all he remembered were great amounts of blinding, searing pain in between gulps of freezing water. On the bank, Kumajirou looked up from his half eaten fish and grunted, “Hit the bastard once for me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: There were still a few minor skirmishes after the Battle of the Windmill, but for all intents and purposes the “Patriot War” was over. Honestly, it never really got off the ground. Some of the Americans involved really believed they were helping their Canadian brothers throw off England’s yoke and assumed Canada would want to become part of the United States, and yes, manifest destiny was in play regarding Canada for many years to come. “We’re the city shining on the hill, a beacon of hope to the world” and all that. Ugh.

**Author's Note:**

> *America didn’t set a permanent date for Thanksgiving until 1863, when President Lincoln declared the fourth Thursday in November would be the official date to celebrate the holiday. Canada’s parliament declared the second Monday in October would be the official date for Thanksgiving in 1957. This is my fiction and I take artistic license where and when I want. :D
> 
> **American school children are taught the song “Yankee Doodle “ as a patriotic song sung during the American Revolution. The song actually is about a particular wig style worn during the time that resembled the curly pasta we call macaroni today. The men who wore this style were called a “macaroni” due to their tendency to dress and behave in a very effeminate manner. Another term for this fashion sense is ‘dandy’.


End file.
